Cupid's Christmas (Serendipity #3)(34)

As Lindsay toyed with the stem of her wine glass, he reached across the table and touched his hand to hers. His gesture was not one of those passing happenstances, it was deliberate to the point of being meaningful—it both asked and offered. She gave him a smile of acceptance. Across the candlelit table, Lindsay saw something she’d never noticed before—Matthew looked exactly like her father. He was so obviously a man with principles.

After dinner, they strolled through the park and he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. She was tall and, whereas most men had to settle for holding hands or circling her waist, Matthew’s arm fit perfectly. It was hours past midnight when he kissed her goodnight and, by then, Lindsay knew she was falling in love.

Did you notice the POW moment? It was in the park when he put his arm around Lindsay. Yeah, yeah, I know—you expected a steamy love scene, right? Those romance novels will be the death of me. It’s never the way those books tell it, but humans go right on thinking it will be. That’s why a lot of them miss out on the beauty of what I give them. Panting, sweating and bodice-ripping are not my style. True love happens with the brush of an eyelash or the touch of a hand, it’s gentle and sweet, it tells a human I’m here and I’ll be here forever. Lust comes panting and sweating, it says I’m here Baby, but who knows where I’ll be tomorrow. Now which one would you really rather have?



I thought so.





In the light of morning, Lindsay began to think back on the evening and one troublesome thing kept picking at her mind. Who had Matthew taken to Paris the second time? It wouldn’t have been his buddies—guys do that once, but it’s not likely he’d return with them a second time. Paris was the city of love—it was a place for picnicking on the grass, strolling along the Seine and kissing under the Eifel Tower. She thought back to her first day on the job and the observation that Matthew resembled so many of the handsome men she’d dated. “Oh dear,” she groaned, “…maybe this is a mistake. Maybe this is Phillip all over again.”

When she arrived at the breakfast table, Lindsay’s forehead was lined with worry.

“Did you and Matthew have a nice time last night?” Eleanor asked.

“Yes,” she answered, and left it at that.

“Is something wrong?” her father asked.

Lindsay again gave a one word answer, “No.”

“Well you look like something’s wrong,” he said, “If something’s wrong speak up—”

“Hush John, leave her alone,” Eleanor said. “Lindsay’s just tired this morning.”

Lindsay waited until he’d finished his eggs and gone off to read his newspaper in the den. But the moment he was out of sight, she turned to Eleanor and asked, “Did Matthew ever take Brianna to Paris?”

“Not to my knowledge,” Eleanor answered, “He took Gracie, and another time he went with some fellows from college, but I don’t know of—”

“Gracie?”

“Matthew’s mother. He took her for her fiftieth birthday and she said it was the finest trip she’s ever been on. I remember her saying, now that she’d seen Paris she could die a happy woman, and she did a year later.”

“She died?”

“Yes.” Eleanor’s eyes began to tear. “It broke my heart. She was the closest thing I’ve ever had to a sister and I surely did love her.” She hesitated a moment, then added, “Life gives and takes—it gave me a sister then took her away, it gave me a husband then took him too.”

“I’m so sorry,” Lindsay said, wrapping her arms around the woman she once hated, “but now, you’ve got Dad, so maybe life is trying to make up for its mistakes.”

Eleanor squeezed a bit closer, “Honey,” she said, “Getting to know you has more than made up for the heartaches I’ve gone through.” The words were barely out of her mouth when she realized what she’d said— “Oops, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“For calling you honey again.”

Lindsay laughed out loud. “You can call me honey, any old time you want to. As a matter of fact, I rather like it.”





Ah yes, as the saying goes—love makes the world go around. If only more humans could come to see that. Love is like marmalade, the more you spread it around the sweeter everything tastes. Did you notice when Lindsay started to fall in love with Matthew, Eleanor came along for the ride? That’s how love works. When humans are in love, they’re happy, when they’re happy, they’re sweeter.

I think it’s safe to say Eleanor’s problems with Lindsay are over, but unfortunately her problems with Ray are escalating rapidly.

Three times I had Traci come to bed in a flimsy little thing that should have gotten some reaction—but nothing. She asked him about the possibility of starting a family and he turned that idea down also. I was able to see what he was thinking that time and it was typical of someone with an axe to grind.

I’m out of ideas when it comes to Ray and asking Life Management for help is not an option. They’re not the least bit flexible about altering their event plan. I’m giving this two more weeks, and then I’m going to The Boss. Nothing’s impossible for him. Not even Ray.